Blood Ties
by TemperanceNova
Summary: Things always get more complicated before they get easier. They were both alone in the world until they found each other and in the end, family is all that ever really matters. Isn't it? Parental!DantexKid!Nero.
1. Alter

**AN: This is a prize fic I did for one of my followers on Tumblr - Plavo-sunce! It's short and fluffy, Parental!DantexKid!Nero. I don't own DMC and all that other crap. Enjoy!  
**

_He was finding it very hard to keep his composure. Difficult to ignore the sensation in his legs that kept pleading with him to run in the other direction. The suit was uncomfortable, the tie around his neck practically strangling him. If he's had his way, e would have worn his own cloths, not the awful politically correct outfit a certain brunette had rented for him. Speaking of the sadistic woman, she had a death grip on his arm, dragging him down the aisle lined with flowers and empty pews. And what was waiting for him at the end of the aisle? A solemn looking pastor, clinging to his bible for dear life. All he wanted to do was run…_

"_We're almost here. Just a little farther," she whispered next to him, gripping his arm a little tighter. Ti wasn't like he needed blood to circulate through the limb anyway…_

_Her words didn't make him feel any better. It didn't mater what anyone said, nothing would make him feel better about being dragged down an aisle to an alter of death. The closer they came to the end, the more he dug his heels into the old burgundy carpet. He never wanted to reach the end, never wanted it to be true. But that wouldn't change the reality of it._

_Standing there in his strange uncomfortable cloths, he was left peering down into the casket alone. His brunette companion stood with the pastor to give him a moment alone. It was like looking in a mirror, the preserved corpse in the glorified pine box before him was practically his clone. Except he was the younger twin. And no matter how much they argued and fought, no matter how many years it had been since they'd seen each other face to face, he would have given anything to trade places with him. In a heartbeat._

"Dante? Dante!"

Groaning loudly, he tried to roll away from the female voice that was shouting at him. His head throbbing violently with each syllable and it only got worse as he rolled off of whatever surface he had been laying on and landed on the floor with a loud thud. Not to mention he'd landed on something hard and cylindrical, probably a bottle left over from last nights binge. Just his luck, feel like shit, fall and hurt himself even more. Just another day in the life.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she snapped, his eyes finally focusing on the snippy brunette hovering over him. He could almost see up her plaid skirt. "Are you _drunk_?"

"Mehbeh…" he groaned, rolling off of the bottle as he tried to right himself. "Whazzit to ya?"

He was laying between the couch and his beat up coffee tale, more than a dozen beer bottles scattered everywhere. It took him a moment to get a good grip on the coffee table, standing up on wobbly legs before he flopped back down on the couch. The whole room was spinning and she was still bitching about something he didn't care to hear.

"Are you even listening to me, Dante? Do you know what day it is?" she growled, poking his shoulder.

He reached up slowly, wrapping his long fingers around her wrist and shoved her away. There no way he was going to put up with her shit, not today of all days.

"Do you know wha' day it is?" he hissed, nodding toward the calendar.

Her mismatched eyes darted across the room, falling on the day that was circled in red. When it finally dawned on her, she just turned to look at him sadly, sinking onto the cushions next to him.

"I'm sorry, I forgot," she muttered apologetically. "It's been so long."

He shrugged lightly, falling over onto her lap. For a moment she went rigid, finally relaxing when she realized he wasn't going to get up. Her longs fingers slowly brushed thought his snowy hair, petting him like a dog. They were only friends, they had been for longer than he cared to remember, but something about the tender act seemed a little more intimate than just friends. But then again, it could have just been the alcohol…

"It's been five years Lady," he huffed, closing his blue eyes tightly. "I thought it was supposed to hurt less."

"You lost your brother, your only living relative. Your _twin_. It's normal to hurt Dante. You can't be strong all the time," she cooed, tugging on his hair gently. "But it's not healthy for you to grieve this way. Drinking won't make the hurt go away."

"I can sure has hell try."

Lady opened her mouth and continued to talk. About what he wasn't exactly sure, most of it was toned out by the pounding in his head. It wasn't until he saw the door to his shop peel open that he even realized she'd been telling him there was someone knocking. Lifting his head slightly, he watched in fascination as two women slowly shuffled into the room. Both were dressed from head to toe in plain white robes, their heads covered in a garment who's name he couldn't put his finger on. One seemed young, in her early twenties, while the other had to be closer to sixty. He was so used to them being black not white, but the rosaries they wore around their necks told him they were nuns. He could tell by the way that they were staring wide eyed at his collection of empty alcohol bottles and naked torso that they were greatly regretting their intrusion. If he thought they might just leave if he ignored them, he would have just laid back down and closed his eyes, but Lady was the first to speak up.

"Can we help you, sisters?" she asked, her voice as innocent as a catholic school girl. He had to catch him from snorting out loud at the irony in that.

"We're very sorry to bother you, but we are searching for a man named…Dante?" the older nun chirped, her wrinkled mouth turning down into a frown as she stared at him.

"I'm him. Wha' d'ya want?" he slurred, sitting up slowly.

The older nun stepped forward, holding a thick looking envelope out toward him. With blurry vision it was hard to make out the name scribbled on the white stationary, but as he pulled it gently from her grasp and brought it to his face almost close enough to touch his nose, he could see it was really elegant script. Fancy lettering spelling out his name, written in a hand that could only belong to his older brother.

"Wha's this?" he demanded, not finding the cruel joke very funny. Of all days to deliver him a letter from his brother, it would have to be on the fifth year anniversary of his death.

"We found it among his things. We were instructed by his mother to bring it here," the young nun piped up, earning a stern glance from her superior sister.

"_His _things? You mean, Vergil? They mailed me all of his shit when he died. Where the hell did you get this?"

Lady slapped him in the arm for cursing at the women, but he really didn't care. He was suddenly feeling very sober and _very _irritated. He didn't care who he offended, he wanted to know what was going and he wanted to know _yesterday_. Then he could have at least prepared for the mind-fuck that was standing in front of him now.

"No. We have no clue who Vergil is. We found it among _his _things…"

At first, he was so lost he was about to tell them to just leave. Whatever the hell they were talking about, he just wasn't getting it. It wasn't until the younger nun stepped to the side, pushing a small boy forward that he really started to think about what was happening. Those stormy blue eyes, the frosty white hair. That _nose_.

"D-Dante-" Lady stuttered beside him, leaning forward to gawk at the young boy who was fidgeting nervously. "You have a kid?"


	2. Bastard

The room was quiet. You could have heard a cricket fart, it was so damn quiet. But as much as the silence bothered him, he couldn't bring himself to say anything. There he was, sitting on his old ratty couch half hung over, staring at two nuns and a kid who reminded him way too much of himself to be comfortable with. He knew it wasn't his kid, there was no chance in hell it was his kid! He'd always been overly protective when it came to having sex and all of the women that he'd been intimate with he knew quite well. It was a mutual friends with benefits sort of relationship they were all happy with and he saw them so often there was no possible way for them to hide a pregnancy or a child from him. That could only mean one thing...

"No way! He's not mine! I've never seen that kid before in my life!" he hissed, watching as the young boy shuffled away from the young nurse, peering around the office curiously.

"We believe he is your late brothers child..." the elder nun nodded, tucking her hands into her robe.

"Verge never mentioned a kid. I think that would be something he'd mention, I mean we talked on the phone a couple times a year and he never said anything-"

"The letter, Mr. Dante?"

He didn't like the title, but he didn't have the chance to correct her as he swallowed back the lump in his throat, returning his eyes to the envelope in his hand. Very slowly he peeled it open, wiggling the thick letter inside free with a little bit of difficulty. He was only able to read the first few words before his eyes started to burn and he shoved it back into the envelope before tears had the chance to form. He wasn't going to start crying again, especially not in front of strangers.

_Dante, I have a son-_

"Why bring him here?" Dante asked immediately, dropping the letter onto the coffee table amongst the discarded beer bottles. He'd find some time to read the whole thing later, when he was alone and had a clearer head.

"He needs someone to care for him, he needs family," the old nun replied simply, nodding toward him.

"We'll what about his mother? I mean, he has to have a mother to have been born, right? I don't know how to take care of a kid..."

The nun shook her head slowly and he caught a glimpse of the young boy turning his head ever so slightly to listen to their conversation as he peered at the objects littering Dante's desk. He could tell by the look on the younger nun's face that he wasn't going to like whatever was said next.

"His mother...passed. A few weeks ago. If you do not take him and care for him, we will be forced to leave him in the custody of the church. He will eventually be put into foster care and hopefully adopted. But I ask you to understand, where we are from, people do not look kindly upon children of his type. It is likely that he will live in the churches orphanage until he becomes of age and is sent out into the world alone..."

"And what _type_ is he, exactly?"

"Most of the townspeople are already referring to him as a bastard child."

He was almost up off the couch before the word had even left the old woman's moth, but Lady beat him to it. She was on her feet in a flash, her quick temper flaring faster than he'd ever seen it before. While he was pissed at the woman's choice of words, he knew that she was only telling the truth. If he did come from an overly religious area, no one would ever want him.

"He's just a kid, you can't label him like that!" Lady hissed, glaring at the nuns with pure fury in her eyes.

"It's ok Lady, I get it," he mumbled, pulling her back down onto the couch before he stood up and stretched.

He could tell the younger nun was having trouble keeping her eyes to herself, she was glancing everywhere else in the room possible to avoid looking directly at him. He thought about grabbing his shirt off the arm of the couch, but he knew they wouldn't be there much longer. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he settled his gaze on the old nun, not even attempting to hide the disgust in his voice as he spoke.

"You guys are just trying to pawn him off because you think you're better than him. Your parents were married when you were born, of course that must make you better," he snorted, moving around the table to tower over the women. "Well you know what, if he is my brother's son, I'll look after him. Wouldn't want him shoved into some shitty system where no one really cares, even though their God teaches them to love everyone equally..."

He could see that the old woman wanted to argue, her wrinkled eyes narrowing at him for a moment before she nodded once and turned toward the door. It took the younger nun a moment to realize they were leaving, scampering out after the older woman as soon as she saw her robe vanishing out the front door. A few seconds later, the door creaked open just wide enough for a small duffle bag to be shoved into the room and they were gone. It wasn't until he glanced across the room at the confused kid standing in front of his desk that he started to regret what he'd just done. He didn't know the first thing about taking care of a child. Hell, there were days where he forgot to feed himself! He had to do something to get his mind off of the unimaginable fear of letting a kid starve to death because of his general lack of responsibility...

"So kid...what's your name?" he chuckled nervously, trying his best to smile. Kids could smell fear, he was sure he'd read that somewhere. Once. Maybe.

No response. The little boy just stood still, staring at him like a lost animal in the middle of a dark alleyway. Dante glanced over to Lady for some kind of help, but she just shrugged her shoulders, blinking over at him looking just as lost as he felt.

"Look kid, you don't have to be scared. I know you're in a new place, but nothing bad's gonna happen to you here..." Dante said calmly, trying not to frighten him any more than he obviously already was.

"I'm not scared," the boy replied quietly, blinking at him. "I know who you are."

"How do you know who I am? I've never met you before."

The kid shook his head, shuffling across the floor to the old juke box that was sitting in the corner. He poked at the glass a few times, trying out a few of the buttons before he realized the machine really didn't work so well anymore, it hadn't since Dante put his foot through the front of it last summer when it kept shorting out.

"The sisters told me you were my uncle. That means we're family," he sighed, growing bored with the broken machine. He slowly made his way across the room to stand in front of Dante, his head tilted almost all the way back to look at him properly.

"Right, ok. Well then you know my names Dante. Shouldn't you tell me yours?"

"Are you going to take me back there? The other kids all point and laugh at me..."

He couldn't help but groan, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. There was no way he had the patience to deal with this kid and he couldn't imagine it edging any better without the hangover.

"Look, you tell me your name and I won't take you back. Deal?"

Sticking out his hand to the kid, he watched as the boy studied how large his hand was before he reached up to grab his index finger. An uncomfortable tightness formed in chest, seeing the small hand wrapped around his finger. This little kid was his only living relative now. He'd been left alone in the world ever since his parents died and now it was up to Dante to take care of him. Whether or not he liked it, whether or not he felt up to the task, he knew there was no way he could put him into some foster system so that he could be bounced around from home to home like he and Vergil had.

"Nero. That's the name my mom said dad picked before he left..."


	3. Sick

Dante had moved to sit at his desk as Nero sat on the floor in front of it, digging through his duffle bag. Lady was sitting back down on the couch, watching the kid in just as much awe as he was. He had to admit that it was strange to look at a miniature copy of himself and Vergil. He couldn't help but wonder who the woman was that was brave enough to crawl into bed with his older brother, especially in an apparently strict religious town. While he knew Vergil was interested in women, he wasn't into the whole relationship bit. It brought up all sorts of question that would never be answered now that Vergil was gone. Sure he had a little letter, but that wouldn't be able to really answers his questions in the same way that a person could face to face.

Was Nero a mistake? And if he was, had Vergil planned to marry the woman and settle down? If the kid was planned, why didn't Vergil tell him. They'd had a conversation on the phone a few days before he died...a few days before the wreck. He wasn't sure at the time why Vergil had decided to come see him so suddenly after all those years. He wouldn't tell Dante why over the phone, but he insisted on coming. _Dante, I have a son..._ That's what Vergil should have told him over the phone. They could have avoided the whole mess, the last five years. He could have _lived_.

"Here," Nero demanded, slamming his hands so suddenly on Dante's desk that he flinched out of shock.

There was a photograph laying before him on the desk. It was curled as if someone had been clinging to it too tightly, the edges warn. Several spots dotted along the couple in the photo that were discolored suggesting someone had cried over it and often. Dante reached out to scoop the photograph up, rubbing his thumb over it to try and smooth it out somewhat in his hands. It was Vergil alright. That trademark frown of his dragging down the whole mood of the otherwise happy photo. The woman beside him seemed fully aware that their picture was banging taken, while Vergil was glancing off at some distant thing. She seemed excited, a wide smile, her hand frozen in time as she waved at the camera. She was wearing a dress, cream colored and floor length. If it hadn't been for the fact that Vergil was wearing a pair of tightly fit jeans, Dante might have mistaken it for some kind of photo to commemorate eloping.

"That's my mom, Clara. And that's my dad..." Nero chirped, fighting to reach over the desk to poke at the picture in his hands. "But you knew that."

"What happened to her? When was this taken?"

Nero shrugged, jumping up to reach the picture. It took him a few tries to snatch the picture out of Dante's hand, turning it around to smirk at it before he pressed it against his chest, curling it in his hands. So he'd been the one clinging to the last memento of family he had left. Oh, how Dante knew that feeling well.

"Mom said it was the day the found out about me. She said, dad made a phone call. Said he was mad at the person on the phone..."

"Me."

He remembered that conversation well. Every morning he laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he could have said anything different to convince his brother to stay where ever he was instead of coming to see him.

_"'Ello?"_

_"Is that really how you answer the phone Dante, really? Shouldn't you be a bit more professional?"_

_Dante couldn't help but smirk, leaning over his desk to collect another slice of pizza from the box teetering on the edge of his desk. The phone was pinned between his ear and his shoulder, his brothers voice muffled._

_"Verge! How long has it been? Six, eight months?" he laughed, biting off the end of the drooping slice of cheesy heaven in his hand._

_"Three years, Dante."_

_"Oh right. What's the sudden call for? Did someone die?"_

_Silence stretched over the line for such a long time that he thought Vergil might have just hung up on him, that or someone really did die, though he couldn't imagine who. They were the only family left._

_"Vergil?" he muttered, sitting up to right the phone as he dropped his slice back into the box._

_"I'm coming to visit you. This weekend"_

_"What? No. Why? You hate it here, remember? Too dark and...smelly. Right?"_

_"Are you still keeping stale pizza boxes around? You really should hire a maid, but then I forget, you don't work enough to pay one. I don't care if you fail to straighten up the living conditions, I won't be long."_

_"Then what's the point of coming here at all? What's so important that you have to be here in person? Just tell me over the phone and get it over with. Spare yourself the trip to bumville."_

_"I'll be there Dante, three days. At least clear off an end of the damn couch."_

Sighing lightly, he pinched the bridge of his nose, staring past his hand at the wide eyed kid in front of his desk. Vergil was coming to see him in person to tell him that he was about to become an uncle. But that was five _years_ ago. Shouldn't Clara have come to find him after Vergil's death?

"Right, he made a phone call and then he left and got hurt. Why didn't your mother ever come looking for me herself? Did she ever tell you that? The nuns knew where to find me, why wouldn't she?" Dante demanded, frowning down at Nero.

He shuffled his weight back and forth on his little feet, glancing over at Lady, for what reason Dante wasn't sure. She physically shrank back from him into the couch cushions as if he were some kind of dangerous animal. Wasn't she supposed to have some kind of damn mothering instinct or something?

"Nero," Dante mumbled, keeping his voice even. "I'm not gonna take you back if you tell me. I just want to know what happened."

Nero's eyes snapped back up to him, turning the picture around for Dante to see again and tapped his mother's face.

"She said it took her a long time to find the letter in dad's stuff. She said she was going to come find you when she got enough money," he whispered, pouting.

"And she couldn't get the money? She couldn't find me? What?"

"She got sick... Mom got sick and I was sent to live at the church."


	4. Storm

It was physically impossible to get over how awkward the moment felt. Nero was telling them, in his own round about way, that his mother had died because of an illness and he had been shrugged off onto the church. The whole situation screamed depressing and Dante had just about had enough of that to last him a lifetime. There wasn't even any way of knowing how long ago his mother had died without asking and he decided to not even go down that road. There was nothing that anyone could do to change the past, so there was no sense in digging it all up again if they could help it.

"Well, I think I've had enough surprises for one day. I guess I'll leave you two to get settled in?" Lady chuckled nervously, sliding off of the couch.

"Wait, what? You're not staying?" Dante gasped, lurching up out of his chair.

Nero glanced between the two of them curiously, probably sensing his fear again. It wasn't even that he was scared of Nero, he just wasn't sure what he was superseded to do with a five year old. It wasn't like he had toys, or even a good television set to watch cartoons on! Lady just stood there in the middle of the office looking quite nervous, shrugging her shoulders lightly.

"Well, yeah. I mean, this is sort of a family thing, right? I'm not family soooo..." she mumbled, her eyes darting toward the door desperately.

"You can't just leave me here with him! What the hell am I supposed to do with him? I mean, what if I have to change his diaper?" Dante whined.

Lady's unsure look suddenly morphed into a frown, crossing her arms over her chest. It was easy to see she was about to go off on one of her famous lectures about how he was a complete idiot and he needed to get off his ass and do something. He didn't really care what words came out of her mouth, as long as she didn't leave them alone together.

"First off, you can start by not cursing around him! He's a child for crying out loud Dante, you can't say things like that or pretty soon he'll be saying things like h-e-l-l. And secondly, he's five. He doesn't wear diapers anymore." Lady paused abruptly, staring down at Nero in horror as if she suddenly thought of something terrifying. "You..._don't_ still wear diapers, do you?"

Dante couldn't help but slap himself in the face. They were probably the two worst beings on the planet to give a child to, there was no doubt about that, but after a moment, he couldn't help but look down at Nero expectantly to see what his answer would be. Dante was practically jumping up and down in his head, fingers crossed, praying the little weird clone didn't in fact need a diaper anymore. And to his immediate relief, Nero shook his head no.

"See? He doesn't need diapers anymore. Just, make sure he's fed and get him to bed at night. I'm sure everything will sort itself out in time. Later!" Lady cheered, rushing toward the door before Dante could say anything else.

When it was obvious that she wasn't going to come back after nearly ten minutes of standing there gawking at the door, Dante sighed heavily and looked down at Nero with a frown. He half expected the kid to shove his finger up his nose and start digging around for gold like all the snot nosed brats he'd seen in TV sitcoms, but he just stood there blinking back up at him silently. For a five year old, he was sure well mannered. It probably had to do with being brought up in a religious setting, but he was sure a kid his age should be bouncing off the walls with boundless energy. Not just standing there, waiting patiently like a fully matured adult.

"So kid, you like pizza?" he asked. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that kids like pizza...

While he wasn't exactly sure when a kid's bedtime should be, he figured that after eating and showering, it was a good a time as any. The sun was no where to be seen and the only place he had to offer Nero to sleep was either his bed or the couch. Not too fond of the idea of giving up his own bed, he pulled a bundle of spare blankets down from the upstairs hall closet and made the kid a comfy looking nest of blankets on the couch. After Nero had changed into his bland gray pajamas, he stood at the end of the couch clutching the picture of his parents tightly, staring up at Dante with glassy, unsure eyes.

"Aright kiddo... Tonight you can sleep here, the doors locked so no one can get in here and kidnap ya," Dante chirped, realizing it might not have been the best thing to say given Nero's shaky step back away from the door. "It's just for tonight, ok? Tomorrow I'll get the junk room upstairs cleared out and we'll see about getting you a real bed ok?"

Nero nodded lightly, but Dante could tell that he was still scared of staying downstairs by himself. Dropping one of his spare pillows onto the pile of blankets, Dante patted the blankets, signaling for him to get comfy. The kid just stood there, staring at the door as if it were going to fly open at any second and something awful would snatch him up and run off into the night. Groaning under his breath, Dante reached out and scooped him up under the arms, rolling his eyes when Nero yelped and dropped him onto the pile of blankets.

"It's fine, you're safe here. And I'm right upstairs if you need anything ok? Just yell for me," he mumbled, pulling the blankets up over Nero's head, burying the child completely.

Nero flailed, pushing the blankets off of his head and instantly tried to flatten his damp hair. He just sat there, scowling up at Dante for manhandling him. Reaching down, Dante ruffled the kids hair again, chuckling under his breath when he swatted his hand away and ducked down under the blankets to hide.

"G'night, kid..."

Shutting off all the lights in the office aside from the one neon bar sign hanging on the far wall over his beat up old juke box, Dante headed upstairs to his bedroom, closing the door quietly. He stood there for longer than he cared to know, waiting to hear if Nero would call for him. When it was clear that the kid was either too petrified to make a sound or had already passed out, Dante pulled off his shirt and fell face first onto his bed without even taking off his jeans. For spending an entire day doing practically nothing, he was fucking _exhausted_. In the morning he would have to find some kind of plan to take care of the kid, acquire a bed for as cheap as possible and probably looking into schooling. Groaning, he rolled over, pulling his comforter over his head, dreading the dollar signs that were already adding up in his head. Kids were too damn expensive!

He wasn't sure how he lay there before the soft sound of rain finally crept into consciousness. Rain was always a good thing, it meant he'd sleep like a log when he finally fell asleep. Closing his eyes, he listened to the gentle sound of the rain hitting the old worn out shingles on the roof, a smirk creeping over his lips as the sound of thunder rumbled in the distance. It wasn't until a particularly loud bang of thunder echoed through the room that Dante bolted upright in bed, his blanket falling halfway off the bed as he realized his bedroom door was the source of the bang, not the thunder. Something small and blurry shot across the room from the doorway, tunneling up under his blankets and he found himself lurching back so forcefully that his head collided with the wall.

"What the fuck is that?" he hissed, kicking his feet at the bump that was slowly crawling closer to the head of the bed.

When Nero's head suddenly popped out from under the blankets he could feel his heart drop into his stomach, panting lightly when he realized it was just the kid scurrying into his bed. And then irritation immediately followed. His bed was the one thing the kid wasn't going to invade, that was for damn sure.

"Kid, what the hell are you doing?" he snapped, sliding back down into his normal spot on the mattress. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little thunder..."

"No!" Nero demanded, glaring up at him.

Another boom of thunder pierced through the calming sound of the rain and Nero ducked his head back under the blankets almost immediately. For a moment Dante just stared down at the trembling lump under his blankets and greatly considered booting the little troll out. But after a while, he began to understand that Nero was terrified enough as it was having lost everything he knew and forced to move in with a total stranger. He was in a strange city, sleeping in a strange building that probably had more creeks than a ninety year old. Huffing, Dante fixed his blanket as best he could with Nero clinging to it and flopped down with his back facing the kid.

"Whatever, just go to bed. Tomorrow, you're sleeping in your own damn room..."


End file.
